HAUNTED HOUSES AND LOCALITIES.
Many who are unaffected by the demoralizing and degrading materialistic
theories of life, which are now enunciated by some who name themselves,
and whom their flattering admirers style "philosophers," will not be
unwilling to allow that a considerable amount of evidence[22] is in
existence, indicating that certain localities are troubled by the presence
of evil spirits, who from time to time manifest their powers, or sometimes
appear to mankind in forms which give a shock to those who are enabled or
permitted to perceive them.
If Christian tradition be accepted, a belief in the official ministry of
unfallen spirits,--"the armies of the Living God,"--will be held,
firmly[23] and intelligibly, as a most reasonable and beautiful part of
Almighty God's revelation, Who "has ordained and constituted the services
of angels and men in a wonderful order." So, by consequence, the existence
and action of fallen angels, the Legions of Satan, and of spirits,[24]
who, at the particular judgment following immediately upon death, have
merited the swift and righteous condemnation of an all-just Judge, will be
fully admitted.
The power, activity, and malice of Satan is apparent from numerous
statements in Holy Scripture; and most Christian writers who have dealt
with the subject of evil spirits have maintained that their power and
influence are unquestionably greater in some localities than others. It is
commonly held, that in lonely deserts, on lofty mountains, where the feet
of men seldom tread, as well as in the mines of the earth,[25] and in vast
forests where desolation reigns, the powers of the Devil and his angels,
being unchecked and uncurbed by the positive energizing activity of
Christianity, are vast. So, likewise, the universal instinct of mankind
has maintained that there are certain places in which the appearances of
unquiet or lost souls might be reasonably looked for, rather than in
others. Deserted houses and lonely roads, where crimes of violence and
special wickedness have been perpetrated; deep mines,[26] localities,
unblessed by Holy Church, where the bodies of Christians have been placed
to moulder away, instead of in God's holy acre, the consecrated
churchyard; battlefields, where it may be that so many have been cut off
in deadly sin--
"Unhouseled, disappointed, unanealed,"
have each and all been regarded as the fitting haunts of disquieted and
wandering spirits.
On this point Southey, in "The Doctor," with much force thus writes:--"The
popular belief that _places_ are haunted where money has been concealed
(as if, where the treasure was and the heart had been, there would the
miserable soul be also), or where some great and undiscovered crime has
been committed, shows how consistent this is with our natural sense of
fitness."
On a collateral detail of this subject (the constant and malignant
activity of evil spirits), Mr. John Wesley, a thorough believer in the
Supernatural, put forth his faith and convictions with singular force and
lucidity, plainly maintaining the reality and importance of all those
explicit statements of Holy Scripture which so directly and practically
bear on the point under treatment.
"Let us consider," wrote Wesley, "what may be the employment of unholy
spirits from death to the resurrection. We cannot doubt but the moment
they leave the body, they find themselves surrounded by spirits of their
own kind, probably human as well as diabolical. What power God may permit
these to exercise over them we do not distinctly know. But it is not
improbable [that] He may suffer Satan to employ them as he does his own
angels, in inflicting death or evils of various kinds on the men that know
not God. For this end they may raise storms by sea or by land; they may
shoot meteors through the air; they may occasion earthquakes; and in
numberless ways afflict those whom they are not suffered to destroy. Where
they are not permitted to take away life, they may inflict various
diseases; and many of these, which we may judge to be natural, are
undoubtedly diabolical. I believe this is frequently the case with
lunatics. It is observable that many of these, mentioned in the Scripture,
who are called 'lunatics' by one of the Evangelists, are termed
'demoniacs' by another. One of the most eminent physicians I ever knew,
particularly in cases of insanity, the late Dr. Deacon, was clearly of
opinion that this was the case with many, if not with most lunatics. And
it is no valid objection to this, that these diseases are so often cured
by natural means; for a wound inflicted by an evil spirit might be cured
as any other, unless that spirit were permitted to repeat the blow. May
not some of these evil spirits be likewise employed, in conjunction with
evil angels, in tempting wicked men to sin, and in procuring occasions for
them? Yea, and in tempting good men to sin, even after they have escaped
the corruption that is in the World. Herein, doubtless, they put forth all
their strength, and greatly glory if they conquer."[27]
Although some may maintain that this passage is perhaps wanting in
theological exactness, there can be little doubt that, with much force, it
truly and eloquently embodies the belief of all Christian people, and
gives a simple and forcible explanation of Scripture statements regarding
the active and untiring energy of the legions of Hell.
Again, the Marquis de Marsay, a pious French Protestant writer of the last
century, whose collected works were issued about the year 1735, sets forth
from his own point of view a theory regarding the nature and character of
spirits, which because it bears directly on the subject of Haunted
Localities, and in some respects follows the teaching of the schoolmen, it
may be well to quote here:--
"I believe," he writes, "that there are three kind of spirits, which
return to this World, after the death of their bodies. The spirits of such
as are in a state of condemnation, and which are in a very miserable
condition, hover about, and _haunt the places where they have committed
their evil deeds and iniquities_. They remain at these places by divine
permission, and do all the evil they can; whilst, at the same time, they
suffer intolerable torments and are malignant. Some of this kind of
spirits occasionally make themselves visible.... The second kind of
spirits are those which roam about, because they seek to free themselves
from their state of purification[28] by other means than by resignation
to Divine Justice; hence they seek help from those that fear God, and in
so doing, withdraw themselves from the Divine Order.... These are not evil
spirits, but such as are still in their self-will, and therefore refuse to
yield to the Divine Order, by voluntarily submitting themselves to the
punishment imposed upon them.... _The third kind of spirits, or rather
souls that reappear, are those, whose punishment is to be at some certain
place in this world, because they have satisfied their passions in that
place, and lived according to their lusts in an idolatrous manner_; for
that which now causes a man lust and pleasure, must hereafter serve as his
pain and punishment. Of this we have several instances; amongst others,
that of a pious man, who after his death appeared to his daughter, who was
likewise a pious person, and after conversing with her some time on his
state, began to turn pale, to tremble, and be much distressed; and said to
his daughter that the time was now arrived when he must go and remain for
a time in his grave, with his putrefying and corrupting corpse; and that
this happened to him every day, because in his life-time he had had too
much affection and tenderness for his body."
The dissertations of the schoolmen, and of certain English writers of the
seventeenth century, are not unlike the above.[29] So, too, are several
of their most reasonable deductions and conclusions. In fact, Dr. Joseph
Hall, sometime Bishop of Exeter (A.D. 1627-1641, and afterwards of
Norwich, from 1641 until 1656), maintained that many souls, guilty both of
deadly sin (duly repented of during life), and of venial sin, in which not
improbably they died, might have to suffer, by lingering, unsatisfied,
because away from their Creator, and about the places where they sinned
in their lifetime, until their temporal punishment was complete; a theory
which though from the pen of one suspected of favouring Puritanism, is
very like that embodied in the faith and practice of the Universal Church.
However this may be, at all events there is scarcely a locality in which
some old tradition as regards Haunted Houses and Places does not exist;
and which is not more or less accepted and believed in even now. A general
rejection of the Supernatural may be the case with many, and a shallow
desire not to be thought superstitious or over-credulous by more, are
obvious reasons why some traditions have become weakened and others
obscure. But putting aside all such, half-lost, forgotten, or fading away,
and making every allowance for exaggeration and hyperbole, the facts which
can still be testified to by credible witnesses, the evidence which is
even now on record, coupled with that innate sentiment of awe, so common
to many, and often strengthened by a sound religious belief, which gives
point to old traditions, are sufficient to induce the calm and the
unprejudiced not too hastily to disavow the existence of a principle of
almost universal acceptance with mankind, and which neither the lame and
limping logic of the sceptic, nor the imperfectly marshalled facts and
random conclusions of the materialist can, in the long run, either weaken
or destroy.
The following curious record, a fair example of numerous others, may now
be suitably set forth:--
"Elizabeth, the third daughter of Sir Anthony Cooke (preceptor to Edward
VI.) married Sir Thomas Hobby, of Bisham Abbey in Berkshire, and
accompanied him to France, when as ambassador to Queen Elizabeth he went
thither. On his death abroad in 1566 Lady Hobby brought his corpse home to
Bisham, where he was buried in a mortuary chapel. She afterwards married
John, Lord Russell. By her first husband she had a son, who when quite
young is said to have entertained the greatest dislike and antipathy to
every kind of learning; and such was his resolute repugnance to acquiring
the art of writing that in a fit of obstinacy he would wilfully and
deliberately blot his writing-books in the most slovenly manner. Such
conduct so vexed and angered his mother, who was eminently intellectual,
and like her three sisters, Lady Burleigh, Lady Bacon, and Lady Killigrew,
an excellent classical scholar, that she beat him again and again on the
shoulders and head, and at last so severely and unmercifully that he died.
"It is commonly reported that, as a punishment for her unnatural cruelty,
her spirit is doomed to haunt the house where this cruel act of
manslaughter was perpetrated. Several persons have seen the apparition,
the likeness of which, both as regards feature and dress, to a pale
portrait of her ladyship in antique widow's weeds still remaining at
Bisham, is said to be exact and lifelike. She is reported to glide through
a certain chamber, in the act of washing blood stains from her hands. And
on some occasions the apparition is said to have been seen in the grounds
of the old mansion.
"A very remarkable occurrence in connection with this narrative, took
place about thirty years ago. In taking down an old oak window-shutter of
the latter part of the sixteenth century, _a packet of antique copy-books
of that period were discovered pushed into the wall between the joists of
the skirting, and several of these books on which young Hobby's name was
written, were covered with blots, thus supporting the ordinary
tradition_."[30]
Creslow in Buckinghamshire,[31] like so many old manor-houses, has its
ghost story. It is said to be the disturbed and restless spirit of a lady,
which haunts a certain sleeping chamber in the oldest portion of the
house. She has been seldom seen but often heard only too plainly by those
who have ventured to sleep in this room, or to enter it after midnight.
She appears to come up from the old groined crypt, and always enters by
the door at the top of the nearest staircase. After entering she is heard
to walk about, sometimes in a gentle, stately manner, apparently with a
long silk train sweeping the floor. Sometimes her motion is quick and
hurried, her silk dress rustling violently as if she were engaged in a
desperate struggle.
This chamber, though furnished as a bedroom, is seldom used, and is said
to be never entered without trepidation and awe. Occasionally, however,
some persons have been found bold enough to dare the harmless noises of
the mysterious intruder; and many are the stories current in
Buckinghamshire respecting such adventures. The following will suffice as
a specimen, and may be depended on as authentic:--
"About the year 1850, a gentleman, not many years ago High Sheriff of the
county, who resides some few miles' distance from Creslow, rode over to a
dinner-party; and, as the night became exceedingly dark and rainy, he was
urged to stay over the night if he had no objection to sleep in the
haunted chamber. The offer of a bed in such a room, so far from deterring
him, induced him at once to accept the invitation. He was a strong-minded
man of a powerful frame and undaunted courage, and like so many others,
entertained a sovereign contempt for all haunted chambers, ghosts, and
apparitions. The room was prepared for him. He would neither have a fire
nor a night-light, but was provided with a box of lucifers that he might
light a candle if he wished. Arming himself in jest with a cutlass and a
brace of pistols, he took a serio-comic farewell of the family and entered
his formidable dormitory.
"In due course, morning dawned; the sun rose, and a most beautiful day
succeeded a very wet and dismal night. The family and their guests
assembled in the breakfast-room, and every countenance seemed cheered and
brightened by the loveliness of the morning. They drew round the table,
when the host remarked that Mr. S--, the tenant of the haunted chamber,
was absent. A servant was sent to summon him to breakfast, but he soon
returned, saying he had knocked loudly at his door, but received no
answer, and that a jug of hot water left there was still standing unused.
On hearing this, two or three gentlemen ran up to the room, and, after
knocking and receiving no answer, opened it and entered. It was empty.
Inquiry was made of the servants; they had neither seen nor heard anything
of him. As he was a county magistrate, some supposed that he had gone to
attend the Board which met that morning at an early hour. But his horse
was still in the stable; so that could not be. While they were at
breakfast, however, he came in, and gave the following account of his last
night's experiences:--'Having entered my room,' said he, 'I locked and
bolted both the doors, carefully examined the whole room, and satisfied
myself that there was no living creature in it but myself, nor any
entrance but those which I had secured. I got into bed, and, with the
conviction that I should sleep soundly as usual till six in the morning,
was soon lost in a comfortable slumber. Suddenly I was awakened, and, on
raising my head to listen, I certainly heard a sound resembling the light
soft tread of a lady's footstep, accompanied with the rustling as of a
silk gown. I sprang out of bed, and having lighted a candle, found that
there was nothing either to be seen or heard. I carefully examined the
whole room. I looked under the bed, into the fire-place, up the chimney,
and at both the doors, which were fastened just as I had left them. I then
looked at my watch, and found it was a few minutes past twelve. As all was
now perfectly quiet again, I put out the candle, got into bed, and soon
fell asleep. I was again aroused. The noise was now louder than before. It
appeared like the violent rustling of a stiff silk dress. A second time I
sprang out of bed, darted to the spot where the noise was, and tried to
grasp the intruder in my arms. My arms met together, but enclosed nothing.
The noise passed to another part of the room, and I followed it, groping
near the floor to prevent anything passing under my arms. It was in vain,
I could feel nothing. The sound died at the doorway to the crypt, and all
again was still. I now left the candle burning, though I never sleep
comfortably with a light in my room, and went to bed again, but certainly
felt not a little perplexed at being unable to detect the cause of the
noise, nor to account for its cessation when the candle was lighted.'"
So that this gentleman's experience (and as to ghosts, he was a sceptic)
only served to strengthen the old and unbroken tradition. Of its
foundation nothing very certain is known. The general facts, however, are
commonly received.
Another example, unusually curious, relating to the Castle at York, is
taken from the "Memoirs of Sir John Reresby:"--
"One of my soldiers being on guard about eleven in the night at the gate
of Clifford Tower, the very night after the witch was arraigned, he heard
a great noise at the Castle; and, going to the porch, he saw there a
scroll of paper creep from under the door, which, as he imagined by
moonshine, turned first into the shape of a monkey, and thence assumed the
form of a turkey-cock, which passed to and fro by him. Surprised at this,
he went to the prison, and called the under-keeper, who came and saw the
scroll dance up and down, and creep under the door, where there was scarce
an opening of the thickness of half-a-crown. This extraordinary story I
had from the mouth both of one and the other."[32]
An account of the haunting of Spedlin's Tower was furnished to me by a
Scotch friend, who asserts and vouches for the authenticity of the
tradition:--
"Spedlin's Tower, the scene of one of the best accredited and most curious
ghost stories perhaps ever printed, stands on the south-west bank of the
Annan, in Dumfriesshire. The ghost story is simply this:--Sir Alexander
Jardine, of Applegarth, in the time of Charles II., had confined in the
dungeon of his tower of Spedlin's, a miller named Porteous, suspected of
having wilfully set fire to his own premises. Sir Alexander being soon
after suddenly called away to Edinburgh, carried the key of the vault with
him, and did not recollect or consider his prisoner's case till he was
passing through the West Port, where, perhaps, the sight of the warder's
keys brought the matter to his mind. He immediately sent back a courier to
liberate the man, but Porteous had, in the meantime, died of hunger.
"No sooner was he dead, than his ghost began to torment the household, and
no rest was to be had within Spedlin's Tower by day or by night. In this
dilemma, Sir Alexander, according to old use and wont, summoned a whole
legion of ministers to his aid; and by their strenuous efforts, Porteous
was at length confined to the scene of his mortal agonies, where, however,
he continued to scream occasionally at night, 'Let me out, let me out,
for I'm deein' o' hunger!' He also used to flutter against the door of the
vault, and was always sure to remove the bark from any twig that was
sportively thrust through the key-hole. The spell which thus compelled the
spirit to remain in bondage was attached to a large black-lettered Bible,
used by the exorcists, and afterwards deposited in a stone niche, which
still remains in the wall of the staircase; and it is certain that, after
the lapse of many years, when the family repaired to a newer mansion
(Jardine Hall), built on the other side of the river, the Bible was left
behind, to keep the restless spirit in order. On one occasion, indeed, the
volume requiring to be rebound, was sent to Edinburgh; but the ghost,
getting out of the dungeon, and crossing the river, made such a
disturbance in the new house, hauling the baronet and his lady out of bed,
&c., that the Bible was recalled before it reached Edinburgh, and placed
in its former situation. The good woman who told Grose this story in 1788,
declared that should the Bible again be taken off the premises, no
consideration whatever should induce her to remain there a single night.
But the charm seems to be now broken, or the ghost must have become either
quiet or disregarded, for the Bible is at present kept at Jardine Hall."
Another example from Scotland now follows, all the more remarkable,
because it is still asserted that in a certain part of the mansion unusual
voices, and supernatural footsteps are said to be still heard, a fact to
which the late Mr. Hope Scott often testified:--Sir Walter Scott relates a
striking occurrence which happened to him at the time Abbotsford was in
the course of erection. Mr. Bullock was then employed by him to fit the
castle up with proper appurtenances, when during that person's absence in
London the following extraordinary circumstance took place:--In a letter
to Mr. Terry in the year 1818 Scott wrote:--"The night before last we were
awakened by a violent noise like drawing heavy boards along the new part
of the House. I fancied something had fallen and thought no more about it.
This was about two in the morning. Last night at the same witching hour
the same noise recurred. Mrs. S., as you know, is rather timbersome; so up
I got with Beardy's broadsword under my arm,
'Sat bolt upright
And ready to fight.'
But nothing was out of order; neither could I discover what occasioned the
disturbance." Now, strangely enough on the morning that Mr. Terry received
this letter he was breakfasting with Mr. Erskine (afterwards Lord
Kinneder) and the chief subject of their conversation was the sudden death
of Mr. Bullock, which on comparing dates must have happened on the same
night and as near as could possibly be ascertained at the same hour, these
disturbances occurred at Abbotsford. One might be induced to maintain that
some drunken workmen or disorderly persons were on the premises, but this
method for accounting for the coincidence will at once be exploded on
reading the following passage from Scott to the same gentleman:--"Were you
not struck with the fantastical coincidence of our nocturnal disturbance
at Abbotsford with the melancholy event that followed? I protest to you
that the noise resembled half-a-dozen men hard at work pulling up boards
and furniture, _and nothing could be more certain than that there was
nobody on the premises at the time_."
The following account of a haunted locality is from the pen of a scholarly
and accomplished clergyman[33] in the diocese of Ripon:--"Some years ago I
was residing in a village about eleven miles from York, and one mile and a
half from another village, in which was the Post Office for the
surrounding district. Whenever I had reason to suppose a letter was lying
there for me, I used to anticipate the delivery of it on the following
morning, by calling for it myself in the evening before. One night, in the
latter end of November, I was going, for this purpose, along the path
through the fields, and when I was midway between the two villages, I
passed through a little hand-gate, and after going about twenty yards from
it, I was startled and alarmed by a succession of the most horrible
shrieks that can possibly be conceived. They seemed scarcely human, though
I felt at the time that they were certainly uttered by some man or woman,
imitating the piercing scream of a hog when the fatal knife is being
plunged into its throat. The panic that seized me vanished in a moment, as
the thought instantaneously flashed across my mind that I was being made
the victim of some ploughman's joke. Being armed, as I then invariably
was, with a particularly tough and stout cudgel, I ran back to the little
hand-gate on tip-toe, intending to take condign vengeance on some rustic,
whom I felt sure I should find crouching down behind the low hedge. Just
as I reached the hand-gate, the sounds suddenly ceased, and to my utmost
astonishment I could see no one, although it was quite impossible for any
person within the distance of two or three hundred yards to have escaped
my observation. The full moon was shining brightly, with the very thinnest
of fleecy clouds before her face, which did not obscure her light, but
only made the whole country distinctly visible in every direction, from
the absence of all strongly-defined shadow. Then, again, I must confess,
an unaccountably superstitious awe crept over me, and, instead of pursuing
my intended route, I returned to my own home.
"On the following morning, when reflecting on what had happened, I began
to take a philosophical and reasonable view of the singular occurrence.
In passing through the little gate I might, as I thought, have left it
ajar, and that soon after it lost its nice equilibrium, and swung back to
its accustomed resting-place. The hinges might have given a creaking
sound, which the lonely solitude of the night had intensely magnified in
my imagination. So much for the philosophical view. I then determined that
I would put this view to the proof, and see if I could by any means get
the gate to produce any noise similar to what I fancied I had heard. This
was the reasonable view. I took care, however, to put my determination
into practice at the earliest period of the evening, just, in fact, as the
daylight had departed. Accordingly I was at the little gate between five
and six o'clock, but in spite of all kinds of efforts it would make no
sign, but swung backwards and forwards on its hinges with noiseless
smoothness. In the midst of my experiments a very intelligent man, a
Gardener by calling, came up. He was a resident of my own village, but had
been working in the other village, and was then returning home from his
day's labour. He expressed some surprise at seeing me there at that time
of the evening, and I gave him a brief account of the reason. 'Well, sir,'
said he; 'if you will walk back with me, I will tell you something more
about that little hand-gate.' I consented immediately, and he said to me
as follows: 'Some years ago, when we were all children at home, my mother
had been to the other village, where she remained till night; on her
return homewards, just as she passed through the little gate, she saw some
kind of figure lying close by it, huddled together in a strange,
mysterious manner. She was horror-stricken, and fled from the spot as fast
as possible. On reaching her own cottage, she flung open the door, and
fell fainting on the ground before her astonished and frightened children.
When she came to herself, and was asked what had caused her evident
terror, she told what she had seen, and where she had seen it. She could,
however, give no definite description of the figure she had seen. She
could only say, "It was something hideous." But never could she be induced
to pass that place again after night-fall, as long as she lived.' 'Well,'
said I, 'this is a very remarkable coincidence.' 'Yes,' said he, 'but I
will tell you something more remarkable still. About forty years ago the
land between the two villages was unenclosed. It was nothing more than a
wild, uncultivated common. One night, about that period, as the villagers
were going to bed, loud and piercing shrieks were heard coming from the
common. Some of the men dressed themselves hastily, with the intention of
going and seeing what was taking place. Some woman, as it seemed to them,
was evidently being ill-treated. They set off on their kindly-intentioned
errand, but as the sounds completely ceased, and the night was very dark,
they thought it impossible to reach the exact spot where their services
might be required. They went to bed, and slept soundly. On the following
morning one of them was going to work at the other village, and as he
passed over the common he was almost distilled to a jelly with the effect
of fright at the appalling sight that suddenly met his gaze. A woman was
lying before him, huddled up on the ground, quite dead, with her throat
cut from ear to ear. She had evidently been murdered, on the preceding
night. Who she was, whence she came, why or by whom she had been murdered,
was never known, and probably never will be in this world. When, a short
time after this dreadful event, the common was enclosed, it so happened
that the little hand-gate was put up close to the spot where the woman's
lifeless body was found.'
"He finished his narrative. I thanked him for it, and internally resolved
never, if I could help it, to pass through those fields alone in the gloom
of night, on any account whatever. I scrupulously kept my resolve."
The celebrated case of the Haunted Room in the Jewel House of the Tower of
London created great interest, about fifty-five years ago. Additional
interest and importance have been given to it by the publication of the
following authentic account of Mr. E. Lenthal Swifte,[34] which in simple
but forcible language tells its own story:--
"I have often purposed to leave behind me a faithful record of all that I
know personally of this strange story.... Forty-three years have passed,
and its impression is as vividly before me as on the moment of its
occurrence.... In 1814 I was appointed keeper of the Crown Jewels in the
Tower, where I resided with my family until my retirement in 1852. One
Saturday night in October, 1817, about 'the witching hour,' I was at
supper with my then wife, our little boy, and her sister, in the sitting
room of the Jewel House, which--then comparatively modernized--is said to
have been 'the doleful prison' of Anne Boleyn, and of the ten bishops whom
Oliver Cromwell piously accommodated therein.... The room was, as it still
is, irregularly shaped, having three doors and two windows, which last are
cut nearly nine feet deep into the outer wall; between these is a
chimney-piece projecting far into the room, and (then) surmounted with a
large oil picture. On the night in question the doors were all closed;
heavy and dark cloth curtains were let down over the windows, and the only
light in the room was that of two candles on the table.... I sate at the
foot of the table, my son on my right hand, his mother fronting the
chimney-piece, and her sister on the opposite side. I had offered a glass
of wine and water to my wife, when, on putting it to her lips, she paused
and exclaimed, 'Good God, what is that?' I looked up, and saw a
cylindrical figure like a glass tube, seemingly about the thickness of my
arm, and hovering between the ceiling and the table. Its contents appeared
to be a dense fluid, white and pale azure, like to the gathering of a
summer cloud, and incessantly rolling and mingling within the cylinder.
This lasted about two minutes, when it began slowly to move _before_ my
sister-in-law, then following the oblong shape of the table, before my son
and myself; passing _behind_ my wife it paused for a moment over her right
shoulder (observe, there was no mirror opposite to her in which she could
then behold it). Instantly she crouched down, and, with both hands
covering her shoulder, she shrieked out, 'Oh, Christ! it has seized me.'
Even now, while writing, I feel the fresh horror of that moment. I caught
up my chair, struck at the wainscot behind her, rushed upstairs to the
other children's room, and told the terrified nurse what I had seen....
Neither my sister-in-law nor my son beheld this 'appearance.'... I am
bound to add that shortly before this strange event some young lady
residents in the Tower had been, I know not wherefore, suspected of making
phantasmagorical experiments at their windows, which, be it observed, had
no command whatever on any windows in my dwelling. An additional sentry
was accordingly posted so as to overlook any such attempt. Happening,
however, as it might, following hard at heel the visitation of my
household, one of the night sentries at the Jewel Office was, as he said,
alarmed by a figure like a huge bear issuing from underneath the door. He
thrust at it with his bayonet, which stuck in the door, even as my chair
dinted the wainscot. He dropped in a fit, and was carried senseless to the
guard-room. His fellow-sentry declared that the man was neither asleep nor
drunk, he himself having seen him the moment before awake and sober. Of
all this I avouch nothing more than that I saw the poor man in the
guard-house prostrated with terror, and that in two or three days the
fatal result, be it of fact or fancy, was that he died. Let it be
understood that to _all_ which I have herein set forth _as seen by
myself_, I absolutely pledge my faith and my honour.--Edmund Lenthal
Swifte."
Another statement, regarding another apparition in the same part of the
Tower, stated by Mr. Offor to have been produced by some instrument, but
which latter assertion is pronounced impossible by Mr. Lenthal Swifte,
also sufficiently illustrates the facts embodied in it:--
"Before the burning of the armouries there was a paved yard in front
of the Jewel House, from which a gloomy and ghost-like doorway led
down a flight of steps to the Mint. Some strange noises were heard in
this gloomy corner; and on a dark night at twelve the sentry saw a
figure like a bear cross the pavement and disappear down the steps.
This so terrified him that he fell, and in a few hours after, having
recovered sufficiently to tell the tale, he died. It was fully
believed to have arisen from phantasmagoria.... The soldier bore a
high character for bravery and good conduct. I was then in my
thirtieth year, and was present when his body was buried with military
honours in the Flemish burial ground, St. Catherine's.
"George Offor."
On this, however, Mr. Swifte thus writes:--
"When on the morrow I saw the unfortunate soldier in the main
guard-room, his fellow sentinel was also there, and testified to
having seen him on his post just before the alarm, awake and alert,
and even spoken to him. Moreover, as I then heard the poor man tell
his own story, the figure did not cross the pavement and disappear
down the steps of the sally-port; but issued from underneath the Jewel
Room door--as ghostly a door, indeed, as ever was opened to or closed
on a doomed man; placed, too, beneath a stone archway as utterly out
of the reach of my young friends' apparatus (if any such they had) as
were my windows. I saw him once again on the following day, but
changed beyond my recognition; in another day or two--_not_ 'in a few
hours'--the brave and steady soldier, who would have mounted a breach
or led a forlorn hope with unshaken nerves, died at the presence of a
shadow, as the weakest woman might have died.
"Edmund Lenthal Swifte."
The case of a Haunted House in Northamptonshire may now follow:--
"A house at Barby,[35] a small village about eight miles from Rugby, was
reputed to be haunted, and this under the following circumstances:--An old
woman of the name of Webb, a native of the place, and above the usual
height, died on March 3, 1851, at two A.M. aged sixty-seven. Late in life
she had married a man of some means, who having predeceased her, left her
his property, so that she was in good circumstances. Her chief and
notorious characteristic, however, was excessive penuriousness, being
remarkably miserly in her habits; and it is believed by many in the
village that she thus shortened her days. Two of her neighbours, women of
the names of Griffin and Holding, nursed her during her last illness, and
her nephew, Mr. Hart, a farmer in the village, supplied her temporal
needs; in whose favour she had made a will, by which she bequeathed to him
all her possessions.
"About a month after the funeral Mrs. Holding, who, with her uncle, lived
next door to the house of the deceased (which had been entirely shut up
since the funeral), was alarmed and astonished at hearing loud and heavy
thumps against the partition wall, and especially against the door of a
cupboard in the room wall, while other strange noises, like the dragging
of furniture about the rooms (though all the furniture had been removed),
and the house was empty. These were chiefly heard about two o'clock in the
morning.
"Early in the month of April a family of the name of Accleton, much
needing a residence, took the deceased woman's house, the only one in the
village vacant, and bringing their goods and chattels, proceeded to
inhabit it. The husband was often absent, but he and his wife occupied the
room in which Mrs. Webb had died, while their daughter, a girl about ten
years of age, slept in a small bed in the corner. Violent noises in the
night were heard about two o'clock, thumps, tramps, and tremendous
crashes, as if all the furniture had been collected together, and then
violently banged on to the floor. One night at two A.M. the parents were
suddenly awakened by the violent screams of the child, 'Mother, mother,
there's a tall woman standing by my bed, a-shaking her head at me!' The
parents could see nothing, so did their best to quiet and compose the
child. At four o'clock they were again awakened by the child's screams,
for she had seen the woman again; in fact she appeared to her no less than
seven times, on seven subsequent nights.
"Mrs. Accleton, during her husband's absence, having engaged her mother to
sleep with her one night, was suddenly aroused at the same hour of two by
a strange and unusual light in her room. Looking up she saw quite plainly
the spirit of Mrs. Webb, which moved towards her with a gentle appealing
manner, as though it would have said, 'Speak, speak!'
"This spectre appeared likewise to a Mrs. Radbourne, a Mrs. Griffiths, and
a Mrs. Holding. They assert that luminous balls of light hovered about the
room during the presence of the spirit, and that streams of light seemed
to go up towards a trap-door in the ceiling, which led to the roof of the
cottage. Each person who saw it testified likewise to hearing a low,
unearthly, moaning noise,--'strange and unnatural-like,' but somewhat
similar in character to the moans of the woman in her death-agony.
"The subject was, of course, discussed; and Mrs. Accleton suggested that
its appearance might not impossibly be connected with the existence of
money hoarded up in the roof, an idea which may have arisen from the
miserly habits of the dead woman. This hint having been given to and taken
by her nephew, Mr. Hart, the farmer, he proceeded to the house, and with
Mrs. Accleton's personal help made a search. The loft above was totally
dark, but by the aid of a candle there was discovered, firstly, a bundle
of writings, old deeds, as they turned out to be, and afterwards a large
bag of gold and bank-notes, out of which the nephew took a handful of
sovereigns, and exhibited them to Mrs. Accleton. But the knockings,
moanings, strange noises, and other disturbances did not cease upon this
discovery. They did cease, however, when Mr. Hart, having found that
certain debts were owing by her, carefully and scrupulously paid them. So
much for the account of the Haunted House at Barby. The circumstances were
most carefully investigated by Sir Charles Isham, Bart., and others, the
upshot of which was that the above facts were, to the complete
satisfaction of numerous enquirers, completely verified."
The following comes to the Editor from Scotland:--
"There is, without a doubt, a 'Haunted Room' in Glamis Castle. Access to
it now is cut off by a stone wall, and none are supposed to know where it
is, except Lord Strathmore, his eldest son, and the Factor on the estate.
This wall was built some years ago by the present proprietor. Strange,
weird, and unearthly noises have been heard from time to time by numbers,
and these by many persons wholly unprepared for the same. The following
statement is from the lips of a lady who was sleeping in the castle one
night, and who knew nothing of the reputation of the house:--She was
undressing to retire for the night, when all of a sudden she was alarmed
by a most violent noise, which made her fancy that one of the walls of the
house had fallen. She rushed out into the passage, but no one but herself
had been aroused by it. So she went back, and slept until morning. She
mentioned the circumstance at breakfast, but the subject was evidently an
unpleasant one. The conversation was at once changed, and she received a
hint to take no further notice of it. Some members of the family cannot
bear the subject to be alluded to, and repel all inquiries."
"There is no doubt," writes another correspondent, "about the reality of
the noises at Glamis Castle. On one occasion, some years ago, the head of
the family with several companions was determined to investigate the cause
one night, when the disturbance was greater and more violent and alarming
than usual. His lordship went to the Haunted Room (before it was walled
up), opened the door with the key, and dropped back in a dead swoon into
the arms of his companions; nor could he be ever induced to open his lips
on the subject afterwards.
"On another occasion a lady and her child were staying for a few days at
the castle. The child was asleep in an adjoining dressing-room, and the
lady, having gone to bed, lay awake for a while. Suddenly a cold blast
stole into the room, extinguishing the night-light by her bedside, but not
affecting the one in the dressing-room beyond, in which her child had its
cot. By that light she saw a tall mailed figure pass into the
dressing-room from that in which she was lying. Immediately thereafter
there was a shriek from the child. Her maternal instinct was aroused. She
rushed into the dressing-room, and found the child in an agony of fear.
It described what it had seen as a giant, who came and leant over its
face.
"An accomplished antiquarian, who has investigated this subject, writes as
follows:--There is a tradition that in olden times, during one of the
frequent feuds between the Lindsays and the Ogilvies, a large number of
the latter, in flying from their enemies, came to Glamis, and claimed
hospitality. The master of the castle did not like to deny them the
protection of his castle walls. He therefore admitted them; and on plea of
hiding them, is reported to have put them into this out-of-the-way
chamber. There he let them starve, and it is said that their bones lie
there unto this day, the bodies never having been buried. This may have
been the sight which startled the late Lord Strathmore on entering the
haunted room--a large number of skeletons lying in the various parts of
the place was a sight calculated to startle any man. And these are
declared to be peculiarly revolting. Some had apparently died in the act
of gnawing the flesh off their own arms."
The Editor is indebted to Henry Cope Caulfeild, Esq., of Clone House, St.
Leonard's, for the following:--
"The account here set forth was recently told to me by a Captain
S----living near Cardiff, South Wales.
"A few miles from Cardiff, on the Monmouth road, there is a narrow spot
held in awe by the peasantry; for a murder was committed there years ago,
and it is said to be haunted by unquiet spirits.
"The brother of my friend, an officer in the army, who has seen active
service in India, was returning with his wife in a dog-cart, some few
months ago, from a dinner with some friends in the country a few miles
from Cardiff. It was late in the night; and as they entered the narrow
part of the road just mentioned, they heard the sound of wheels behind
them. They looked back, and saw the lights of a carriage, and to avoid
being overtaken and passed in such a narrow road, Captain S---- whipped
his horse, and tried to keep well in front. Presently the sounds of wheels
ceased; and to their great surprise, indeed consternation, they all of a
sudden saw the lights and heard the wheels of a carriage some distance on
in front of them. It was evidently the same; and yet it had never passed
them! It seemed to stop at the side of the road, and Captain S---- drove
his dog-cart past the strange carriage. He and his wife saw in it a dim
light; there were people in it, and they seemed to be without heads! Mrs.
S---- was paralysed with terror; her husband told his brother that he
would rather face a battery of artillery than go through the horror of
that moment; and the horse evidently was in sympathy with them, for he
went like one mad.
"It appears that the very same spectral figures had been seen by a
country surgeon when passing the same place; and that the land-owners in
those parts had cut down trees, and clipped and altered the appearance of
the hedges on each side of the road, in order to get rid, if possible, of
the ghastly horror, and of the hold which it has upon the popular mind.
The _appearance_ of the carriage and its occupants, in a dim, hazy light,
was to the last degree unearthly and spectral."
A correspondent of the Editor furnishes him with the following:--
"A brother of mine, a man who is the last person in the world to believe
over much, or to be in the least degree superstitious, wishing to be near
a particular town, and yet within easy reach of the permanent country
residence of his greatest friend, was induced (A.D. 1862) to take over the
remainder of the lease of an old-fashioned furnished mansion in Cheshire,
where he, with his wife, children, and servants, in due course, went to
reside. He was advised to take the place as well because of the
reasonableness of the rent--for it was spacious and comfortably
furnished--as by the recommendation of the London house-agents, a
well-known firm in the West End, with whom the letting of it rested.
"Soon after the arrival of the family and servants, the latter protested
again and again that they were disturbed almost every night by a continual
'tramp, tramp, tramp' of heavy footsteps up the stairs, and along the
narrow passage, out of which were the doors which led to their bedrooms.
They would have it that the house was haunted. The sounds were sometimes
so loud and alarming that, as one of the servants remarked, 'It seemed
like a regiment of foot soldiers marching over creaking boards.'
Complaints were made to my brother, who merely said that the noises must
be the result of wind under the joists, or of rats, and he laughed at the
whole affair. Some of the servants gave warning, and left. Still the
sounds went on: not always, and every night, but, with certain cessations,
from time to time.
"In the autumn of the year 1863, a lady, her daughter of fourteen, and a
maid, came to stay in the House; and as the former was somewhat of an
invalid, a suite of rooms in the west wing, each communicating with the
other, was apportioned to them. The second night after their arrival, the
lady in question, suddenly awaking, saw in her bedroom a luminous cloud,
which gradually appeared to be formed into the shape of an old man, with a
most painfully depressing countenance, full of the deepest sorrow, and
wearing a large full-bottomed wig. She tried to raise herself in bed, to
see if it were not the effect of her half-waking fancy, or the result of a
disturbed dream, but could not. The room, in which there was no natural
light, seemed to be partially but quite sufficiently illuminated; and she
felt confident that a spectre was before her. She gazed at it for some
minutes, three at least, hearing the ticking of her watch, and counting
the seconds. There the apparition stood, and seemed to be making an effort
to speak, while a strange, dull, inarticulate groan seemed to come up as
from the floor. Upon this, seeing the bell-rope hanging within the folds
of the curtains at her right hand, she braced herself up to seize it and
give it a most violent pull. Immediately she did this, the face of the
figure bore an expression of anger, and by degrees it faded away. The
bell, which hung some distance away, was heard by no one, and she was
compelled to lie alone, for she feared to rise (though the apparition did
not reappear) until the church clock near struck four, when, the morning
having broken, she rose, and dressed herself.
"In the morning, before she had said a word, her daughter, on meeting her,
said, 'Oh, mamma, an old man in a great wig tramped through my room twice
in the night. Who could it have been?'
"The lady being so impressed by these occurrences, which her host and
hostess would persist in saying were only the result of her own fancy,
determined on leaving in the course of a few days (as she afterwards
stated). On the following night, she slept with a night-light, and the
door into her maid's room open. But the noise of tramping, which had been
hitherto heard only in the servants' wing of the house, which was
opposite, was now heard in the east side of it. 'Tramp, tramp, tramp!' the
sounds were heard constantly, without cessation; so much so that the
master of the house, my brother, rose suddenly that very night, thinking
that thieves had broken in, and rushed out to the east passage. But all in
a moment, they stopped; nothing was to be heard, nothing seen; all was
still. This occurred again and again.
"The lady left as arranged. The noises ceased for a while, and then began
once more. It was with difficulty that any of the servants could be
induced to remain, believing that the house was haunted.
"About ten months afterwards, my brother having forgotten all about the
supposed spectre and the noises, had been out for the day, and returned
home in a dog-cart, some time after midnight, in company with his groom.
Only the housekeeper had remained out of bed, as his return was quite
uncertain. The horse and trap were put up, both the servants had gone to
their rooms, and my brother was taking some refreshment in the
housekeeper's apartment, by the light of the fire, when all of a sudden, a
loud and decisive rap was heard at the door. Thinking, of course, that it
was one of the servants, he replied, 'Come in.' Before the words were out
of his mouth, the door opened, and the apparition of the old man in a
large wig stood before him. My brother was paralysed with terror for a
while. He could not speak; he tried hard, as he says, but his mouth was
dry and his tongue motionless. 'Good God!' he exclaimed at length, 'am I
awake or asleep, in my senses or gone mad?' The motionless figure, whose
face was intensely sad, looked at him beseechingly. 'In God's Name, what
do you want, or what can I do for you?' 'Too late! nothing,' was the
mournful, but somewhat inarticulate response. And with that the spectre
suddenly vanished away. At this moment a strong, loud, piercing, bitter
wail, as of the voice of a woman, broke the awful silence. It seemed to
come from the courtyard outside, and was repeated again and again round
the upper part of the house. The scream was said to be like nothing human.
The servants heard it, my sister-in-law was awoke by it, and the groom and
housekeeper, with the others, as a consequence, came rushing downstairs.
My brother, who is as brave and bold as he is remarkable for common sense,
does not now dispute the reality of haunted houses.
"A few months afterwards, he and his left. And after he had given up
possession, he was informed, on good and credible authority, that
tradition confidently asserted the mansion to have been the residence of a
disreputable Dutch hanger-on of William of Orange, who is represented to
have violently made away with one of his mistresses in that very house, in
a room which overlooked the park, now a disused lumber-room, at the east
end of the old mansion."[36]
An American clergyman, of what is commonly termed "the Protestant
Episcopal Church," sent the following, which, as he writes, "went the
round of the newspapers," and for the truth of which he himself vouches:--
"Few positions in life can be imagined more disagreeable than that of
being imprisoned in a haunted cell in a police station. 'The New Orleans
Times' tells a most unpleasant story of a ghost-infested cell in the
Fourth Precinct police station in that city. It appears that several years
ago 'a little old woman,' named Ann Murphy, committed suicide by hanging
herself in this cell; and since that event no fewer than thirteen persons
have attempted to destroy themselves in a similar manner; four of these
attempts being attended with fatal results. One of those lately cut down
before life was extinct was a girl named Mary Taylor, who, on recovering
consciousness, declared that while lying on the floor of the cell she was
aroused by a little old white woman in a faded calico dress, with no
stockings and down-trodden slippers, with a faded handkerchief tied round
her head. Her faded dress was bound with a sort of reddish-brown tape, and
her hand was long, faded, and wrinkled, while on the fourth finger of her
left hand was a plain, thin gold ring. 'This little woman,' said the girl,
'beckoned me to get up, and impelled me by some mysterious power to tear
my dress in strips, place one of the strips round my neck, and tie the
other to the bars. I lifted my feet from the floor, and fell. I thought I
was choking, a thousand lights seemed to flash before my eyes, and I
forgot all until I found myself in the room with the doctors and police
bending over me. It was not until then that I really comprehended what I
had done, and was, I believe, under a kind of trance or influence at the
time, over which I had no control.' Mary Taylor had never heard of the
suicide of Ann Murphy, whose appearance, according to the police, tallied
exactly with the description given by the girl. Others having complained
in a like manner of the ghostly occupant of the cell, the police, to test
the real facts of the case, placed a night lodger who had just arrived in
the city in this cheerful apartment. Being thoroughly tired and worn out,
he fell asleep immediately, but shortly afterwards rushed into the office
in a state of terrible alarm. He, too, had been visited by the little old
woman, and wisely declined to sleep another hour in the station."
The following case, as may be seen from an attestation at its conclusion,
is likewise well authenticated:--
"An English clergyman, who was seeking a residence in a northern Scottish
city about ten years ago, had his attention accidentally called to an
old-fashioned, pleasant-looking detached house, of some size and
convenience, which had been for some time vacant, about a mile and a-half
from the city. It had considerable grounds round it well timbered, a
high-walled garden, and was in many respects both commodious and
comfortable. One attraction, likewise, was the extremely moderate rent
which was asked for it. So he secured a lease of it for a short term of
years. He and his family and servants came up from England in due course,
and took up their abode in it. They were not there long before it soon
became evident, to some of them at least, that the house was haunted.
Noises of the most extraordinary character were heard in various parts.
Sometimes there came the sound of heavy footsteps on the stairs. At others
there were knocks, both violent and gentle, at the doors, none of which
could be accounted for. At midnight, on several occasions, there was a
constant, uninterrupted sound in one room, as if a large sledgehammer
(having been wrapped in a blanket folded several times), was steadily and
regularly struck against the wall, at the head of the bed in the room, by
some particularly powerful arms. 'Thump, thump, thump,' it sounded, as
though lifted and directed with tremendous force; and this noise often
lasted, with only slight intermission, for two or three hours. On other
occasions persons on the stairs or in the passages felt the air move, and
heard the creaking of the floor close to them, as if someone invisible
were passing quickly by. One night, between twelve and two, the master and
mistress of the family were awakened by a loud and startling noise, as if
all the shutters of the windows of the house had been suddenly and
simultaneously burst open with the greatest violence. The crash was
literally tremendous; and each believed that thieves were breaking in. So
the clergyman, seizing a large presentation sword which hung on the wall
of the landing, unsheathed it, and went downstairs with a light, expecting
to face the intruders. He first examined the dining-room (from whence the
noise seemed chiefly to come), but everything was just as usual. No
shutter was open; no cupboards forced. So, too, in hall and library.
Nothing was moved. Then he descended into the large cellars; but there,
likewise, everything was untouched, and nothing unusual was seen. A large
retriever dog, which lay at the foot of the front stairs, however, was
greatly agitated, trembled and howled. But still nothing was to be seen.
Perfect silence reigned. So the clergyman and his wife returned to their
sleeping-room, only to hear, all of a sudden, precisely the same strange
noise repeated about ten minutes after their return, with, if anything,
even greater violence.
It was currently reported, and commonly believed by several residents
thereabouts, that many years previously, the cast-off mistress of a Scotch
nobleman, having been handed over to a physician and university professor
for marriage, and the latter having received from the nobleman in
consideration of the marriage the gift of the house and lands in question,
subsequently murdered the woman, for whom he had conceived a special
dislike, and buried her body on the premises. This story, with slight but
unimportant variations, was told by several; and it is quite certain that
a young female Scotch servant, who once lived in the house, following the
sound of heavy footsteps up to an attic in the front portion of the house,
which she had pledged herself to do when next she heard them, fell down in
a swoon or fit at the top of the stairs; from that moment lost her reason,
and is now in a lunatic asylum, near the City in question. These are facts
testified to by those who know the circumstances.[37] As to the general
accuracy of the foregoing, the Editor is enabled, on the testimony of
several, to pledge his word thereto.
I am indebted for the following narrative to a friend,[38] who in her own
words has given all the details of another remarkable example of a Haunted
House:--
"Monsieur de Goumoëns, a magistrate, or a gentleman holding a high
judicial position at Berne in Switzerland, a man of undoubted and
well-established character for personal courage, as well as for moral
rectitude, related to my father, Mr. Caulfeild of Bath, with whom he was
on the most intimate terms of personal friendship, the following
circumstance, at once so extraordinary and so painful, which had come
within the precincts of his own house, as to drive him from his place of
residence. The account was given to my father in the year 1829, when he
was residing with his family at Berne. Noises and disturbances had been
frequently heard in M. de Goumoëns' bedroom, as of footsteps, the opening
and shutting of drawers, and of an escritoire when papers were shuffled
about. The heavy curtains of the large old four-posted bed were drawn and
undrawn by no human hand, and were sometimes suddenly flung up on to the
top of the bed; while the sound of the flapping of the wings of some very
large bird was often heard. All these and other sounds so disturbed M. de
Goumoëns and his wife, that the health of the latter began perceptibly and
seriously to fail. Examinations of the house made by himself, in
conjunction with the police, and special investigations of the bedroom and
other adjoining apartments, afforded no solution whatsoever of the
mystery. At length Madame de Goumoëns' maid gave warning to leave her
service, complaining that her sleep and peace were completely broken by
these supernatural occurrences. While consulting together as to what could
be done, and hesitating as to whether they might not be compelled to leave
the place, the strange sounds became louder than ever. One night they were
suddenly aroused by hearing sharp cries of distress from one of their
children, a little boy, who slept in their room, and who in great terror
called out fretfully again and again, 'Let me alone; let me alone; don't
you hurt me!' as he pointed into vacancy. This particular event was the
last straw which broke the camel's back, and led the child's parents to
determine on leaving the house immediately.
"I may add that on a subsequent and more searching examination of the
house, one room was found to be both locked and fastened up; regarding the
character of which the owner was somewhat reticent. However, the boarding
before the door, which had been papered over, was removed, the keys were
forthcoming, and the room was carefully examined. On the shutters being
opened, it was found just as it had been left since its occupation by a
previous tenant, who had gone by the sobriquet of 'the Black Styger.' He
was a nobleman of bad reputation, and had committed suicide in that very
apartment by blowing out his brains; the traces of which with blood were
found scattered both on wall and floor. It was generally believed that his
disturbed spirit haunted the place."
One of the most singular recent examples, testified to by two independent
eye-witnesses, now deserves to be reproduced. The appearance of a large
spectral bird is thus recorded by Mr. Henry Spicer in one of his curious
and thoughtfully written volumes entitled "Strange Things amongst Us:"--
"Captain Morgan, a gentleman of the highest honour and veracity, and who
certainly was not over-gifted with ideality, arrived in London one evening
in 18--, in company with a friend, and took up his lodgings in a large
old-fashioned house of the last century, to which chance had directed
them. Captain Morgan was shown into a large bed-chamber, with a huge
four-posted bed, heavy hangings, and altogether that substantial
appearance of good, solid respectability and comfort which associated
itself with our ideas of the wealthy burghers and merchants of the time of
Queen Anne and the first George, when so many strange crimes of romantic
daring or of deep treachery stained the annals of the day, and the
accursed thirst for gold, the bane of every age, appeared to exercise its
most terrific influence.
"Captain Morgan retired to bed, and slept, but was very soon awaked by a
great flapping of wings close beside him, and a cold, weird-like sensation
such as he had never before experienced spread through his frame. He
started, and sat upright in bed; when an extraordinary appearance declared
itself in the shape of an immense black bird, with outstretched wings, and
red eyes flashing as it were with fire.
"It was right before him and pecked furiously at his face and eyes so
incessantly, that it seemed to him a wonder that he was enabled, with his
arms and the pillow, to ward off the creature's determined assaults.
During the battle it occurred to him that some large pet bird belonging to
the family had effected its escape, and been accidentally shut up in the
apartment.
"Again and again the creature made at him with a malignant ferocity
perfectly indescribable; but though he invariably managed to baffle the
attack, he noticed that he never once succeeded in _touching_ his
assailant. This strange combat having lasted several minutes, the gallant
officer, little accustomed to stand so long simply on the defensive, grew
irritated, and leaping out of bed, dashed at his enemy. The bird
retreated before him. The captain followed in close pursuit, driving his
sable foe, fluttering and fighting, towards a sofa which stood in the
corner of the room. The moonlight shone full into the chamber, and Morgan
distinctly saw the creature settle down, as if in terror, upon the
embroidered seat of the sofa.
"Feeling now certain of his prey he paused for a second or two, then flung
himself suddenly upon the black object, from which he had never removed
his gaze. To his utter amazement it seemed to fade and dissolve under his
very fingers. He was clutching the air; and in vain he searched, with
lighted lamp, every nook and corner of the apartment, unwilling to believe
that his senses could be the victims of so gross a delusion--no bird was
to be found. After a long scrutiny the baffled officer once more retired
to rest, and met with no further disturbance.
"While dressing in the morning, he resolved to make no allusion to what he
had seen, but to induce his friend, on some pretext, to change rooms with
him. That unsuspecting individual readily complied, and the next day
reported, with much disgust, that he had had to contend for possession of
the chamber with the most extraordinary and perplexing object[39] he had
ever encountered, to all appearance a huge black bird, which constantly
eluded his grasp, and ultimately disappeared, leaving no clue to its mode
of exit."[40]
And with this, the present chapter is closed. Numerous other cases of
Haunted Localities might have been provided; some which have long been in
print, others which have been heard from the lips of those whose
experience and good faith testify to the truth of their narratives. In so
many examples collected, almost every one owns certain features in common:
and all in some measure are alike. Repetition, by consequence, becomes
wearisome. The cases here put on record, therefore, while sufficiently
diversified, serve abundantly to set forth the reality of those facts, to
a brief record of which this chapter has been devoted.
MODERN SPIRITUALISM.
"Now the Spirit speaketh expressly that, in the latter times, some shall
depart from the Faith, giving heed to seducing spirits and doctrines of
devils."--_1 Tim. iv. 1._
"Many believe that the final assault upon Christianity will be made by the
enemies of God, bonded and compacted together into an universal kingdom.
It may be, as some have held, that another Incarnation shall take place;
and that the Enemy of souls will be permitted to assume man's nature.
Anyhow, we are told that Antichrist shall _reign_. Thousands, deluded by
false miracles and lying wonders, will become his subjects, his willing
votaries; and own him as their king. His worship will be an adroit
counterfeit of the worship of the True God--his kingdom a parody of the
Catholic Church; while its doctrines will be at once so attractive and
delusive to fallen man as that the predicted Apostasy will be great and
widespread."--_Sermons on Antichrist._